Loveless
by kiarikitten
Summary: "That is why I am cursed to be senza amore ... Loveless… How fitting, for it to go with worthless…" Feliciano mumbled, a lone tear making a path down his cheek. remake of Decorus-Memoria's Senza Amore, T to be safe, yaoi, Gerita, full sum inside. R&R! :3


Feli dozed. As usual. He'd been listening to the countries debate about problems and the economy for a few hours now. He was actually asleep until England got to the podium, not able to snooze while he was screaming at Alfred to stop molesting him, while Greece was as immune to it all and kept snoring quietly in the corner, a kitten curled up on his lap.

Feliciano had started to allow his mind to wonder, only to be jerked out of his thoughts by China, warning him to look alive until Germany caught him.

"Italy! Get your head out of the clouds! The rest of us are here, not on cloud nine! If you can't take this seriously and not keep daydreaming about your pasta then maybe you just shouldn't come to these meetings!" the large blonde yelled, leaning over the table, hands taut fists. "If none of this even matters to you, then get out!"

A small frown came to the lips of the brunette, but he didn't let it show. Instead, he plastered a saddened grin on his face and got up to walk to the door, grabbing his messenger bag off of the chair he was occupying. "Fine," he said, feeling chills run down his spine as the ice-blue glare of one of his only friends burnt a hole through his heart. A single cry stopped him in his tracks, beckoning him to turn and look at his brother.

The elder of the two Italians had also stalked toward the door, a scowl painted on his features. "And where the fuck do you think _you're_ going?" he hissed, his usual mood not intimidating one bit to the Northern half of the country.

"Anywhere but here. It seems Germany has wished me away… So I'll simply leave. I'll see you at home, Lovino."

With that statement, the usually cheerful Italian made his way out, the door slamming shut behind him. After his brother was gone, Lovi turned to the blonde man at the front of the room, glaring with all his might at him.

"_You_ did this…"

By the time the brunette had finally dragged himself home, it was almost sunset. He'd wandered aimlessly around the city, that small frown from the meeting coming back for revenge. He didn't fight it. Maybe it'd be best if he just disappeared. After all this time, he'd only really been a bother. He couldn't recollect a memory of something positive and something that made a difference to anything or anyone.

He was hopeless. He was in _love_ with his best friend. And one of his _only_ friends, at that.

"Stupid Doitsu~… Don't you see that I love you? No. Of course you don't… You'll never know how much I love you… That is why I am cursed to be _senza amore~_... Loveless… How fitting, for it to go with worthless…" Feliciano mumbled, a lone tear making a path down his left cheek and following his chin to drip off onto his shirt. He was home now, sitting on the end of his bed.

Three days. Three morbid, depressing days. Feli had decided that he wasn't to be social with anyone for quite a while, starting with his brother. Friends called to talk to him, ask him how he was, but he ignored them all. Even America had called. This surprised him, but he'd simply told Romano to tell him he wasn't there, asleep, anything.

A week. Three day's worth of silence wasn't enough for the small brunette. He wouldn't speak to his brother, when someone stopped by he would simply stay in his room, and was also locking himself in the attic more that usual.

The attic was his art studio. The walls were littered with drawing and sketches of wildlife and people he knew. Paintings of all shapes and sizes also were scattered around, most being propped up against the wall, a couple still on easels either finished or waiting to be started, and a few joining in with the papers on the wall.

There was a single widow, facing west, that had a couch in front of it. The small sofa was one of the best places to nap in the boy's opinion, but he'd just been staring out the window lately.

Thinking of love.

On the tenth day of the 'Italian Isolation' as France had called it, Feli was in his room, as usual. Lovino had taken the day to go to Spain's home to help with a few things, unsure about leaving his almost suicidal brother home alone. A visitor had come. The doorbell rang. Once. Twice. Three times. Four.

Simply wanting to wallow in self pity with peace, he took his time to get the door. Upon opening it a crack, a booted foot made it way quickly to the door jam, as to not allow the door to shut again.

"Doitsu… What are you here for?"

"I've come to talk to you."

The Italian breathed a sigh. "About what, may I ask?"

Germany was clearly upset about all of this. "Don't play stupid. You know what I'm here for." His irritation was almost visible as he pushed open the door, closing it gently after he was safely inside. While standing in front of the smaller nation, he noticed that Feli had tear-stains on his cheeks, his eyes still slightly red and puffy, and his hair was a bit messy. He looked like a small child that had had a nightmare. "You missed two meetings. Explanation?"

"I didn't feel the need to be unwanted, or, unwelcome, should I say, by all of you. You all seem to be doing fine with me gone."

"You aren't unwelcome!"

"Is that so… Then why is it you wanted me gone that day?"

"I was kidding and you know it. I never meant it." Ludwig said, his eyes narrowing a bit. That's what he was confining himself for? He was upset about that? The smaller of the two had his gaze locked on the old brown carpet.

"Of course you didn't… But it sure as Hell sounded like you meant it." Ludwig looked at the brunette. He'd never heard him curse, not even the slightest. He was always cheery and smiling and chattering away like the sun wasn't going to rise the next morning, like everything was right with the world. He'd never seen him like this.

A long silence settled between them, suffocating Italy and making Germany shift his glance to the floor as well. Feliciano had broken that thin sheet of non-existent glass when he finally spoke up.

"Get out."

"Excuse m-,"

"I said… Get _out._ Now." Feli interrupted. He suddenly looked up, his eyes filled with tears yet again, his cheeks reddened, and his hand pointing to the door. "I don't care if I am in love with you! Just get out! Now!" He yelled, pointing again but at Germany now.

Said blonde's eyes widened. He… He loved him…? But…

Fali's hand flew to his mouth in a vain attempt to shove his words back down his throat and swallow them forever, keeping them to take the place of the butterflies in his stomach when Ludwig made him blush or the knot in his gut right now.

"W-what?"

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! YOU IDIOT!" Feliciano screamed, all the while running for the stairs to take him to his sanctuary. Germany made a move to go after the boy, only succeeding in letting him get away.

At the top of the steps was the door to the attic, the one place in the world Italy felt safe from everything. There, he was surrounded by smiling faces and never ending sunsets, and flowers that would never wilt. All made of paint. He'd succeeded in getting in and locking the door. Now he just had to wait for Ludwig to leave or Lovino to come home and kick his ass.

"Damnit! I let him get away!" Germany said, furious at himself. Now he was faced with the choices of leaving, or staying and facing Romano's wrath.

'_Why did he come here? He didn't even apologize! Does he really expect me to say that everything was my fault? That selfish idiot!'_ Italy thought. His mind was racing and tears were flowing down his cheeks constantly. As much as he rubbed at his face, trying to clear them up, his actions were in vain and his sight was still unclear.

Then again, why did he run away? Should he have stayed, talked things over?

He was being childish and selfish, over reacting even, but it felt good. Better. _Safer_. He couldn't bring himself to face his crush. He didn't really have the knowledge to assess the situation. So, Feliciano, doing what he did best, fled.

He pressed himself to the door, listening to the German outside as he did so. _"Damnit! I let him get away!"_ the small Italian heard. He'd slid himself down to sit on the floor. A few knocks sounded on the door before he heard the voice again.

"Italy, will you please come out? I just want to talk…"

Instead of a reply, an almost inaudible sob and a bit of laughter made its way through the door. Germany narrowed his eyes, confused.

"I-Italy…?" he asked. More laughter. Maybe he'd finally cracked after getting beaten up all his life.

"I really loved you, you know that? I bet you don't even like me. Do you? Do you, Doitsu?" Feliciano managed to get out between light cackles. No reply came to his question, but there was no need for words. A hush fell between them, the door still unwanted by one party and a thanked object by the other.

Romano, in an unusually good mood, figured that it would be ruined by the time of sunset. Opening his front door and ridding himself of his keys and jacket, he was greeted by the sight of Feli's door ajar and the light sound of his laughter, but intertwined with sobs.

Slowly, he made his way to the stairs, calling for his brother with concern evident in his voice.

And then he saw him. The _Potato Bastard_ was here. And he made Feliciano cry. Again.

Lovino's anticipated fury had arrived, sending him flying up the steps, both hands clenched in fists of rage and hate. "YOU!" he screamed, making the blonde turn. Almost immediately, his fist collided with a cheek. The strike cast Germany back a bit, his shoulder hitting the door. "IT'S YOUR FAULT HE'S LIKE THIS! DO YOU HEAR ME? YOU DID THIS! MAKE IT BETTER!" the enraged Italian, screamed.

Feliciano, still not quite willing to open the door all the way, slid the chain lock into place, only allowing the door to reveal a crack. Seeing his brother, he was still unsure of what to do. "Romano! Stop it!" he said. He'd finally piped up after a few more hits were received by the largest of the three.

Germany looked to the door, an expression of pure regret on his features. Silence was a virtue. The elder of the Vargas brothers stood tall, both arms still hanging stiffly at his sides and brown eyes dressed in a deep glare.

"Italy… why won't you come out? We've all been worried about you! You're making yourself sick!" Ludwig stated. It was true… It was no lie when it was said that physical health was connected to mental health and emotion. Feliciano had gone through probably two and a half bottles of pain medication, but it still didn't help. It never made it all go away.

"Doitsu… I… I…"

Feli just couldn't finish that sentence. Another sob wracked through his body. He clutched at his chest with his left hand, his right going to the harvesting burning feeling in his throat. He looked up again to see that Ludwig had come to the opening. A gloved hand reached out and started stroking his reddish-brown hair.

Feliciano quickly pushed the other's hand away to close the door still separating them, leaving a confused and hurt look on the man. A second later, the door was flung open and a still crying Italian plastered itself to his chest.

They simply sat there, Italy blubbering like a four year old into his shoulder and Germany keeping his arms securely around the weeping nation, doing his best to calm him down and comfort him. Sweet nothing was whispered into his ear, along with a few its's-okay's and words of love and acceptance in Ludwig's native tongue, he even being so bold as to say 'I love you, too'.

Feeling content with the scene in front if him, Romano left to get ready for bed. The episode had lasted a while, the sun having almost left the sky and retreated west, illuminating his brother and the Potato Bastard in a bright light, tying everything together. He smiled a bit to himself, knowing that Feliciano deserved to be loved by someone. Everyone deserved to love and be loved back, no matter how odd the two got the message across.


End file.
